


Safe Tonight

by ShippersList



Series: 50 kisses [11]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:22:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippersList/pseuds/ShippersList
Summary: Jaskier wakes up in the night and hears Ciri crying.(50 kisses prompt #6, on a falling tear)
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: 50 kisses [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960912
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	Safe Tonight

The sound is muffled. If Jaskier wasn’t painfully familiar with how sobbing sounds when one tries to hide it in their pillow, he probably wouldn’t even have woken up. But he did.

Geralt is beside him, silent, barely breathing and Jaskier isn’t sure if he’s still unconscious or if he’s already moved to sleeping. It doesn’t really matter, though, because Geralt will be out for a good while after the grueling fight with the kikimore because there hadn’t been one, oh no, there had been three. Which is great, considering the village elder had said there’s only one.

Jaskier is going to have words with the man as soon as Geralt is done with actively trying to bleed to death.

He hears another muffled sob and turns his head.

Their campfire has burned to embers that give out little light but Jaskier still sees the curled-up form on the other side of the camp. It’s shaking.

Aw, crap.

Jaskier rubs a hand over his face and closes his eyes for a moment. After hauling Geralt’s bulk from the other side of the gods-damned forest, cleaning and stitching his wounds, getting his hand almost bitten off by Roach, and sorting out everything else, he really would rather sleep but…no. Jaskier is many things but he’s not cruel, especially to a child.

He pushes himself to sit up, pauses to untangle his hand from Geralt’s grip—how does he manage to do that even when he’s unconscious?—and silently moves to sit next to Ciri.

”Can’t sleep?” He asks in a low voice.

For a moment, he hears nothing. Then, ”Is he going to die?”

”Who, Geralt? Nah, he’s way too stubborn to die,” Jaskier says. ”Besides, he knows I’d drag his ass back anyway. There’s no getting rid of me.”

 _(Not anymore,_ he adds in the privacy of his mind. _Not after everything we’ve been through._ Their reconciliation had been painful and it had torn them both open and flayed them raw but it was the only way forward. They’re still not fully okay but they’re getting there.)

Ciri snorts. It’s a wet sound that makes Jaskier’s heart ache. She’s still shaking, minor tremors running through her small frame. He knows it’s not because of the cold but he still says, ”You’re freezing. Come on, you should share the bedroll with us.”

”I’m fine—”

”Excuse you, young Miss, but you’re not,” Jaskier says haughtily. ”Your rattling teeth will keep me from getting my beauty sleep and then where will we be?” He taps her nose with a finger and jerks his head. ”Come on.”

She doesn’t protest which itself tells a lot. Jaskier had realized about three and half minutes in just how tough the little princess could be but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still just a child. A child who’s been through hell and came out with her head held high.

”Just lay down,” Jaskier says as Ciri hesitates next to his and Geralt’s bedroll. ”He’s a furnace, you’ll be warmer if you’re between us.”

”Are you sure?” She asks, sounding so very small.

He shakes his head as he gently tugs at her, wraps his arms around her, and tucks her close. ”Never been more sure of anything in my life, kitten,” he says and kisses her wet cheek. ”Now, hush and go back to sleep.”

She stays stiff for a moment and Jaskier fusses with the blanket, gathering it almost up to her nose. When she finally relaxes, it’s to trembling and hitched breath, and Jaskier holds her close and pets her hair, humming softly a lullaby he remembers from ages ago.

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, Geralt stirs with aching bones and the taste of absolute shit in his mouth. He stirs because someone jabbed him in the barely healed-up tear on his side and it fucking hurts. He already grits his teeth because Jaskier should really know better but as he turns his head, there’s a mess of silver hair next to him.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. Ciri sleeps in between him and Jaskier, her face tucked against Jaskier’s chest and dried-up tear-stains running from the corner of her eye to her hair. She looks so fucking young like that, like the little girl she is.

She shouldn’t be here.

But she is. And she’s Geralt’s.

”Fuck,” he hisses and with a pained grunt, slowly turns to his side, reaches his arm over her to curl on Jaskier’s hip, and tugs them close. Ciri doesn’t stir but Jaskier frowns.

”Go back to sleep,” Geralt whispers and the frown smooths away.

Too tired to think of much else, Geralt closes his eyes and lets himself drift off.


End file.
